


The best party on this side of the galaxy, she said

by stellarel



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Drunk Doctor (Doctor Who), F/F, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, but like nothing super graphic or bad, mentions of human trafficking, there's dancing there's drinking there's party shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23579002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarel/pseuds/stellarel
Summary: The Doctor takes you to a party.There's dancing. There's drinks that make you taste the music. There's trouble, because of course there is. This wouldn't be a party with the Doctor if there wasn't trouble, now would it?
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Reader
Comments: 20
Kudos: 88





	1. Chapter 1

"You know, it's one of the best parties on this side of the galaxy. I can't believe I haven't taken you already." She talks, scurrying around the console with a grin on her face. "Now, there _is_ a dress code, so you'll all need a change of clothes. The TARDIS will pull something up, won't you dear?" She stops to smile at the ceiling, and the ship hums in response. 

"Just check the closet. There should be some stuff there." She continues, apparently now directed back at the humans on the ship.

You wander into the wardrobe, and find a rack of suits, and evening gowns, and everything in between. You eye through the options, and Yaz instantly picks out a red floor-length dress for herself with a grin on her face. The boys are, as expected, going through the suits, and every once in a while Ryan points out something strange and colorful and ridiculous he had managed to find. Eventually you end up picking out something you thought would be appropriate to what you were assuming would be the fanciest event you had ever been a part of; a full-length evening gown. 

Briefly you wondered where the TARDIS was getting all of these clothes from, but quickly realized the TARDIS was able to do a lot of things you didn't understand, and producing fancy dresses out of thin air might just be one of them. 

When you walk back to the console room, you find the Doctor leaning to the console with her arms crossed, and having changed into a suit of some kind. It was just a little bit strange, and fit her perfectly, and to be honest you weren't surprised at all. She smiles when she spots the two of you, grins, and leans off the counter with a small twirl.

And she looked way better doing it than anyone should be allowed to. 

"Alright then! You lot ready?"

You give her a nod, grinning at her enthusiasm.

The place was beautiful - for a spaceship, it was fancy. There were golden lights and live music and the whole place was full of people dressed in their best. You look around, eyes wide, trying to take it all in. 

She smiles at you, with her eyes sparkling in the golden light, softly places her arm around your shoulders, and guides you towards the main hall. "Come on." She says quietly and leans into you, and you try your best not to melt.

After a short while of looking around and listening to her talk about the ship and the planets and the history of the annual party, everybody else in your ragtag group had drifted off to dance, or to find food, or drinks, or both, leaving you alone with the Timelord. 

"Do you wanna dance?" She asks quietly, voice much softer than before. Tentative. "I mean, I haven't danced since I was a man, but I bet I still got it. They haven't changed the rules, have they?" She tilts her head a little, and gives you one of those faux-nonchalant looks. "It's like riding a bike, isn't it? Although I don't know if your muscle memory is still there if you're in a different body and your muscles aren't technically the same anymore. Hm. I need to test that." She furrows her brows a little, looks like she's thinking, and then defaults to filling the silence with some top notch rambling. "You know, I learned to dance in 18th century France. Well, it was in a spaceship, but that's not the point. Madame de Pompadour taught me, you would've like her, she was smart. Excellent dancers, the French, they knew how to party."

You smile at her. "In 18th century France, in a spaceship?"

"Yeah. There was a disruption in the time-space continuum. It was a whole thing."

"Of course there was." you breathe out and smile at her, not surprised in the slightest. Tilt your head a little, and offer her your hand. 

"Well? You gonna show me what you learned?" You lift an eyebrow a little, and her face does a thing where it sort of freezes for half a second. "Though I gotta warn you, I'm afraid I don't know much. I've never been to 18th century France."

"Yet." She points out. "We could go, you know. If you want."

"Hm. Maybe later." You smile at her.

She takes your hand, carefully, and leads you to the dance floor. 

"And don't worry. It isn't much more complicated than just swaying from side to side."

You try not to think too much into the fact that this is a very couple-y thing to do, and the song was quite slow, and _oh_ , she places her hand on your waist. After your brain almost short-circuits, you softly place your hand on her shoulder. 

She gives you a small smile. "Don't worry. I'll lead." She says quietly, and her voice is low, and she is _close_ , and you don't even really hear the music anymore because everything you can see, feel, register, is _her_. 

And she starts leading, and it's easy, just going with her. It's not unlike every other day with her, you think; she pulls you along and you follow. 

After a while, the song changes, and it's a much, much, slower one. She tilts her head a little, drops your hand, and places both of hers on your waist now, softly tugging you closer. You follow, snaking your arms around her neck, a little awkwardly. 

You had been dancing around each other, for weeks, you realized, and this was much, much closer than you'd ever been before.

No, not this kind of dancing, this was your first time doing that, but, you know. The kind where you skirt around each other not really knowing how close you could get without making things awkward, and then wanting to get even closer. Testing the waters. 

Your relationship with her had started to morph from friends to - maybe something else. Or maybe not, not so much that you could call it anything, really, but at the same time it definitely felt like there was something there. The changes were small, and you couldn't quite grasp it, and most of the time you weren't sure if you had been imagining it, but the way she was looking at you now definitely made you feel like you hadn't. 

"Is this alright?" She breathes out quietly, her eyes searching your own. You give her a soft smile and lean in closer, burying your head on her shoulder. 

Neither of you were that good at talking about your feelings, but this seemed to be something you could do to show what you were feeling without having to say it out loud. 

"Yeah." You smile into the crook of her neck, getting almost dizzy because she was so _close_ , and you could _smell_ her -tea, and engine oil, and vanilla, and her hands were firm on your waist and you could feel the double beat of her heart. She leans closer to you, too, molding herself to your shape, and you hear her let out a breath, and you start swaying to the slow beat of the song, together.

After a while, you can feel her smiling. "You know, I think it's incredible that people, collectively, everywhere, when they hear music, they just start swaying. I love it. They don't need to do that, they don't gain anything from it, and yet, anywhere you go in the universe, if there's humans, and you play them music, they will dance. And not just dance, no, they move at the specific frequency you give them. I love it."

You let out a quiet, breathy chuckle and find yourself softly playing with the hair on the back of her neck. "Are you saying that humans are basically harmonic oscillators, Doctor?"

"Um, yes?" She answers, but it sounds more like a question. "Isn't it brilliant?" 

You can hear the smile on her voice. And it hits you, as something warm and solid settles into your bones, and you almost blurt out _I_ _love you_ out loud.

The song ends, and you let out a deep breath, and as the guy on stage starts talking about how there's going to be a small break until the next song, and _everyone go fill up on refreshments_ , you lean away from her, trying to ignore how much more comfortable you'd been just seconds earlier. Being close to her felt like being _home_. 

She smiles at you, warm and kind and soft, and nods towards the bar. "Come on, let's get something to drink. I heard there's a drink here that can make you taste the music."

You can't help but laugh at that. Shake your head a little. Fall into step besides her. 

"What if the music tastes really bad, though? Are you just stuck with that, then?"

She tilts her head. "I don't know. Wanna find out?" She gives you a smirk, and you do your best to ignore the way it makes your heart skip a beat.

When you're leaning to the counter, and she'd ordered your drinks, you just focus on watching over the party. There were a lot of people, and aliens, and everyone was dressed in their best, glitter and gold filling your vision. You felt slightly out of place there - apparently these were all Very Important People, and the Doctor had gotten you all in with her psychic paper. Although you suspected she might have been a Very Important Person on her own, anyways.

Suddenly someone interrupts your train of thought.

_"Hi."_

You hadn't even realized there was someone next to you, but you turn around at the sound of their voice, not really sure if they were talking to you or not. 

"Can I just say, you are exceptionally beautiful."

It's a man, or at least looks like one, young-ish and handsome, and he looked like there was something just a little bit off about him. Like he was a Ken doll brought to life, or something. He looked human, but...but not quite. And he's looking at you, so you're pretty sure he is, in fact, talking to you.

You recover from the initial surprise, not really used to comments like that, and give him a small smile in response and take it as a compliment. 

"I haven't seen you around here before, and I'd like to think I'd remember someone as eye-catching as you. Haven't seen anyone quite like this in a long time." He smiles, looking you over. 

"It's my first time here." You say with the most neutral tone you can muster, hoping to sound polite, but not so much that he'd get any ideas.

"Oh? Where are you from?"

You glance at the Doctor - she hadn't gone over what was normal for this time and what wasn't, and you just hoped she understood what you were thinking.

She gave you a small nod, barely there.

"I'm from Earth." You give him a small smile and a nod, hoping it isn't something that's considered terribly strange here.

This seems to make him happy, and he smiles and tilts his head a little. "Oh, wow, you're a long way from home, then." His eyes travel down your body in a way that made you feel a little naked, and it was strange, and made your skin crawl a little. 

"Maybe I could show you around." He raises a brow, and there's a smirk on his lips, and this might be a spaceship in the far future but you were pretty sure this game hadn't changed that much. You could well imagine someone using the same chat-up line on your present-day Earth. 

You give him smile that you try to make look apologetic. "Sorry, but no thanks, we were just waiting for our drinks, actually." You nod towards the Doctor, just slightly, and he only just now seems to realize you weren't alone. He looks her over, as if sizing up a potential threat, and it almost makes you feel bad for him. Oh, he had _no idea_. 

"Oh, excuse me. I didn't realize you had company." He gives you a polite, but fake, smile. "Girls night out?"

"We're special guests here, actually." The Doctor says when you fail to come up with a clever answer, and her voice is harsh, and low, and firm. 

You smile at this, and give him a small half-shrug. He looks you over, and tilts his head a little, and then leans closer to you. "You know, I bet I could show you a better time than her." He says quietly, and it sounds like a challenge. Not one you were particularly keen on taking.

"Yeah, thanks, but no thanks. I'm good."

He crosses his arms and something angry flashes in his eyes. _This is probably a man who isn't used to being told no_ , you think, and it scares you a little. Those were always the worst kind. 

"Let me rephrase that. You _will_ -"

You furrow your brows at this a little. "I don't think I will, actually." You interrupt him, before he could finish that sentence.

He takes a step towards you, and you flinch away from him as a reflex, and this makes a small, sick grin form on his lips. 

You didn't want to fight him - but at this point, boy, were you ready to. You square your shoulders and stand up a little straighter, hoping to look even a little bit intimidating.

"Back off." The Doctor suddenly cuts in, voice low, and calm, but infinitely unwavering. It was a _command_. She turns herself to face the man, and you can't see her, but you could imagine she didn't exactly look very friendly. 

The guy freezes, probably on instinct. When the Oncoming Storm tells you to do something, you do it, and ask questions later. 

You give him a glare. "Leave me alone. I'm not interested." You try to sound sure of yourself, but you're not sure if it's working. "I'm with her." You add, hoping this would drive him off and that the Doctor would play along.

He raises a brow at this, straightens up, and gives the two of you a glance that resembled one that one might give a pile of trash. "Hm. And such a pretty organic. Pity." He sighs, way too loud for it to be real, and turns away, and leaves, muttering something to himself. 

You furrow your brows at the last line. Organic? As opposed to what?

"Are you alright?" The Doctor asks, voice quiet and worried.

You let out a breath, and relax, leaning against the counter. "Yeah." You look at her, a little confused, wondering whether or not it would be wise to ask about _what was up with him_ and _who was he_ and _what did he mean_ in a room this crowded. You decide against it. 

She gives you a worried smile, and leans in closer to you. "Good."

The drinks arrive, and the bartender gives you a sympathetic smile.   
"I'm sorry about him. He's the resident golden boy, always all over you organics."

The term doesn't mean anything to you, and you hope it doesn't show on your face too much. The bartender hands you the drinks, and they are blue, cold, and taste like candy. 

You try to concentrate on this instead of worrying. 

And when the effect hits you, you can suddenly taste the chipper melody floating through the air as...lemongrass, and summer, and ocean air. You frown a little - it isn't bad, necessarily, but it's weird. You look at the Doctor, and she's scrunching up her nose, and you giggle a little at the face she's making.  
"I don't like it." She says quickly, as if the face wasn't enough.

"I don't think it's that bad. Kind of nice, actually."

"What are you tasting?"

You furrow your brows at that. "Lemongrass and ocean air, I think. Are we not tasting the same thing?"

She tilts her head. "No, we are not, apparently. Different biology." She points between the two of you, gives you a small shrug and stands up, turning towards the door. 

"Where are you going?"

"Don't you wanna know what other kinds of music taste like?" She asks with a smile and a lifted brow, and you smile back at her, walking to her side. 

"What did you taste?" You ask, curious, as she offers you her arm and you loop yours around it, falling to step besides her. 

She makes a face. "Bacon." 

"Ah." You nod understandingly, with a small smile. 

You walk into a different room with different music in the background, slow and jazz-like, and this one tastes like chocolate. The next one is upbeat, 40's inspired dance music, and it tastes like a strawberry milkshake.

You walk from room to room like that, arms tangled, heads fuzzy, and laughing. 

You realize her voice tastes like chamomile tea and honey, old books and a hint of smoke, and you can't get enough of it.

There's a lounge room with a piano, and it's quiet, and dark, and calm. She looks around for a moment, and you walk in, thankful for the peace and quiet.   
The lights are dim and soft and golden, and it's beautiful. You smile to yourself, looking around the room, and she's looking at you, unable to tear her eyes off. The lighting made you look absolutely ethereal, she thinks, and the dress you were wearing didn't exactly help, it had a deep neckline that left your collarbones on display, and she wasn't _used_ to that, and now that you were alone, and there were no distractions, and she was drunk, she just couldn't help herself. She just hoped you wouldn't notice.

"Do you wanna test all the notes and see if they taste different?" She blurts out, pointing at the piano with her head a little tilted, half to distract herself and half to distract you.

You smile at her. "Of course I do, darling."

She doesn't say anything, but the pet name takes her by surprise. She almost shivers. She knows it had probably been half-joking, but still. The Doctor wasn't used to being called _darling_.

"What did those people mean?" You ask quietly, sitting down. "I mean, the organic thing. What does it mean?"

She furrows her brows a little. "Oh. That guy." She frowns. "I didn't like him." 

"Yeah, me neither. But do you know what he meant?"

She tilts her had a little, trying to get the words right inside her head. "This far in the future, most humans have been more or less genetically modified. Just, small changes, you know? A more symmetrical face, bigger eyes, no wrinkles, that sort of thing. They got rid of freckles and moles at one point, mostly. Whereas you, not having been genetically polished and altered, are something rare and interesting and beautiful to them." She gives you half a shrug. "It all circles back on itself, I suppose."

"Oh." You furrow your brows. You're not sure what you were expecting, but that was...not it. You're not sure if you like that information or not. 

She was aimlessly poking at the piano keys, quietly.

"Do you know how to play, Doctor?" You ask, voice soft and quiet.

She tilts her head a little. Smiles a bit to herself. "I used to. I don't know if these fingers still remember it, though."

You lean closer to her, and shrug a little. "Well, you won't know if you don't try, right?"

She doesn't look at you, but her smile grows a little. 

And she starts playing, tentatively, quietly at first. It's a soft melody that you don't recognize, but it's easy to get lost into. You watch her play, hands gentle on the keys, brows a little furrowed and lips just slightly parted.

The melody tastes like Earl Grey and smoke and wood. You could imagine some 1800's composer in a dusty old study writing this song, and bet the air would smell exactly like this.

The melody fades away, and her fingers stop moving on the keys. 

"That was beautiful." You say quietly, smiling at her. She glances at you, and in the soft, dim light it makes her eyes look almost golden.   
She gives you a tense smile, and turns to look back at the piano, unable to look at you without feeling her face heat up. 

"I learned it from Mozart's sister, once. Maria Anna. She was cool."

You smile at this. "So I've heard. What did it taste like to you?" 

She gives you half a smile, still not looking at you. "Maple, I think. You?"

"Tea and wood."

"Hm. Interesting."

You fall into a warm, comfortable silence, and after a while, you lean into her side softly, in an almost-nudge. "Wanna play another one?"

She tilts her head a little, and smiles softly, and starts to play something else. It's a classical piece, too, you think, but much more ...confident. It's not as soft, it's faster, and more pointed. It tastes like mint and grapefruits.

And then, in the middle of it all, she makes the mistake of looking over at you, and she falters, messing up the melody. She breathes out a quiet _sorry_ before quickly turning to the keys again, trying to pick up where she left off. 

"Don't be sorry. You're amazing."

As a reflex, she smiles at you, and finishes playing, a little more choppy than earlier. 

Then she takes a deep breath, drops her hands from the keys, and shrugs off her suit jacket, quietly. 

And then she places it around your shoulders gently, without quite meeting your eyes.

"Doctor? What are you doing?" You ask quietly, and she takes a breath, and you can see her jawline tense a little. You're trying your best to not feel like you're melting, because the jacket is soft and warm and smells like her, and it feels like _heaven_. And seeing her without the jacket wasn't exactly bad, either.

She leans away and starts rolling up the sleeves of her shirt. Sighs. "Did I ever tell you about those ridiculous hats the Timelords used to wear?" She asks quietly, and you furrow your brows.

"Yeah?"

"Did I tell you why?"

You tilt your head a little, thinking it over. "No."

She sighs, looking down and her fingers twitching a little. Swallows. "They were like these metal caps with weird, large collars attached to them. Looked ridiculous and felt terrible. But everyone still wore them." She's playing with her fingers a little bit, nervous and lost in the memory. She still wasn't used to talking about _them_ , or her history. She takes a breath. 

"Your neck is the most sensitive, most vulnerable part of your body, you know. That's why wild predators go for the throat. There's important stuff there." She explains, and you nod to yourself a little. "So, of course, wanting to be all mighty and powerful, they would cover their necks with metal collars as if to say, _see_ , _I'm invincible,_ you can't touch me." She takes a breath and looks over to some unseen middle distance. 

"And showing your neck to someone, it was...making yourself vulnerable. It was...intimate. When someone did that, it was...it was a big deal." She sighs quietly. "And I'm drunk and my head is all fuzzy and I can't concentrate. With your neck all bare like that. And your collarbones. I just..." She finishes quietly, making a vague hand gesture towards you, and she's almost blushing now. "You're beautiful and I feel weird and I don't know what to do." She still doesn't meet your eyes, and you don't know what to say.

"Oh." You breathe out, your heart hammering in your chest.

She smiles distantly, still not looking at you. 

You tilt your head a little. "You know, I could've just worn something different if I knew this was bothering you." You say softly, trying to make her feel better.

She sighs. "No. I'm not going to tell you how to dress. This is just a me problem. But I just don't want to be weird about it and I don't want to make you uncomfortable, so..." She gestures to the jacket lazily. "Can you just, wear that, please? At least for a while?"

You take a breath, considering this. "I can, if that's what you want, but I'm not uncomfortable, Doctor. You can look at me, it's not illegal. I'm alright being vulnerable around you." 

This makes her lift an eyebrow a little, and she shifts slightly to meet your eyes, and you know she'd understood the implications you were only half-accidentally making. 

These were her words you were using to get your point across - soft, and quiet, and careful, in the dark room with the golden lights, and it was nothing like what she had been picturing in her head. Sure, she'd gone over this scenario in her head about a thousand times, what would happen if she told you how she felt, or - she wasn't _blind_ \- if you beat her to it. But she never imagined it would be this subtle. Gentle. She hadn't thought you would do this, honestly, when she'd said all those things, but you had hung on to her words and understood where she was coming from, and you were giving her something small to hang onto in return.   
It would be easy to ignore and to go back to the safety of her at-arms-length comfort zone, if she wanted to. 

But she didn't want to.

Suddenly, there were about a thousand _very_ different scenarios running through her head, about where this could go, and she wanted to see them through. And, god, before the effects of these drinks wore off, a small part of her wanted nothing more than to know what your moans would taste like. Or gasps, or screams, or whatever sounds she could pull out of you, she wasn't picky. 

If she was someone to easily blush, she supposed she would probably be doing that right about now.

And then she turns around to see Graham at the door, and all those thoughts fly right out of her head. "Oh, there you are." He huffs out, walking in the room. "I've been looking everywhere for you, this place is like a bloody maze." He looks over at the two of you, on the seat in front of the piano, just a little closer together than would be necessary. You in her jacket.

If he reads something into it, he doesn't show it. 

"Sorry to interrupt, but I think there's something going on, Doc. There's this one guy who's been all over Yaz for a while now and I think he's up to something. He ain't right, somehow."

The Doctor sighs, and pinches the bridge of her nose a little, closing her eyes. "How much do you wanna bet it's the same Golden Boy who was harassing you earlier?" She mutters without looking at you.

You sigh a little, and she stands up, pulling you with her.

"He was bothering you too?"

"Hm. Yeah, earlier. Seems to have a thing for 'organic' girls." You frown a bit, making air quotes around the term.

"Organic? As opposed to what, digital?"

"Genetically manipulated."

"Blimey." He shakes his head a little.

He isn't hard to find, and you can see Yaz stand there with her arms crossed, staring daggers at him. Apparently he had been bothering her, too, and you could imagine how that'd gone, with her police training and bite-back attitude.

After a little bit of investigating, the Doctor is leaning to a wall, looking considerably more annoyed than you'd seen her be in a while, and with a frown on her face, and as the guy saunters down the hallway, she gives him a frown and a raised eyebrow. "So, you're a jerk _and_ a human trafficker?" She asks, and he freezes. "I mean, I suppose you can't be the latter without being the former, but still." She sighs, and takes a step towards him. "What, did you take a ' _Being a bad guy 101_ ' -class?"

She's confident, and seems like she doesn't have a care in the world. The way she looks like when she has a plan and is already ten steps ahead of everyone else. You can see him falter a little, and his eyes shoot between the two of you. 

You cross your arms. She knew people like him, and she knew she could be intimidating when she wanted to be. And he seemed like the kind of guy who could do with a little scaring off.

He takes a step in your general direction, and in about half a heartbeat, the Doctor has her hand on his throat, pressing her finger down on what you guessed to be a pressure point of some kind. The man stilled immediately.

"Venusian aikido. Very effective, you know, easily paralyses someone without even breaking a sweat." She talks, nonchalantly. "So I'd advice you don't try anything."

Turns out he had been _collecting_ humans, girls, and selling them to whoever had enough money and happened to want one. The Doctor didn't like this one bit, of course. Yaz had easily fallen back into her policewoman role and made sure all the girls were alright, and the Doctor made sure to yell at the man in charge of the party for not exposing this earlier. _Do I have to do everything myself?,_ She'd said, _are you lot incapable of keeping your idiots in check for one bloody minute?_

After making sure all of the almost-kidnapped humans were alright, you walked back into the TARDIS, still a little drunk and still wearing the Doctor's jacket. She hasn't said anything about it, so you decide to hold onto it for as long as possible. For... reasons. 

You lean to the console as the Doctor works on the controls. The others had already went to their rooms, eager to get out of their suits and their dancing shoes, leaving you alone with the Timelord. 

"I have an idea." You say, and she peeks out from the other side of the console.

"I like those."

You smile at her. "I wanna see what my favorite songs taste like."

She smiles at the idea, and walks over to you. "Oh. Can I join you?"

Your heart swells a little at the thought, and you smile at her. "Of course you can."

And then you're sitting, well, lounging, on the floor of a dark, hazy room, just getting lost in the music and singing along to your favorite parts with your eyes closed.

The Doctor is smiling, because she is _happy_ , and you are happy, and this is _good_. She loves listening to your voice, and the way it tastes on her lips makes her want to hear more. Or taste more. She isn't sure.

When the next song ends, you lean back, and smile at nothing in particular. The room is dim, and warm, and your head's still a bit fuzzy, and everything is _good_. You weren't sure how much of it was because of the drinks earlier and how much was because of the Doctor's presence, but at this point, you didn't really care. 

You shrug off her jacket, partly because the room was pretty warm and partly because you wanted to see where that would get you. She gives you a questioning look, and raises an eyebrow just a little, licking her lips.

She swallows, you can see it, and her eyes drop to your collarbones almost instantly. It makes you feel even warmer, and you can't help the small smirk that creeps on your lips.

"Are you doing this on purpose?" She squints her eyes a little, tilting her head.

You smirk at her, leaning closer and tilting your head. "Maybe."

You can see her jaw tighten, and her fingers twitching. She was keeping her face plain, composed, but it was starting to crack, and you enjoyed watching her puzzle with the self resolve. Even if it did feel a bit like playing with fire.

"You sure that's a good idea?" 

"Not even remotely." You answer truthfully, with a smirk. 

She licks her lips a little, and shifts her eyes away from you. And then, slowly, her hands travel to her neck, flitting over the bowtie. She unties it, fingers quick, and goes for the buttons of her shirt next.

"What are you doing?" You ask, with brows a little furrowed and voice a little thick.

She tilts her head. "Making myself vulnerable."

You watch her, unable to draw your eyes away. She smirks, and lifts an eyebrow a little. "You sure your heart can handle this? It's beating way harder than it should." 

You squint your eyes at her, not sure if she was serious or not. "You can hear my heartbeat?" 

She leans closer, hums in response. "I can. You're not exactly subtle, with all this, you know." She smirks, and lifts a few fingers to your chin, tilting your head a little and taking a deep breath. "I can smell it on you, too. The pheromones." 

Her lips brush against your ear. "I could probably _taste_ it." She mutters, voice quiet, and you shiver a little at the thought. You can _feel_ her smirk.

And then in a rush of confidence she suddenly shifts, and presses her lips to your throat with a small hum, and you let out a breath, borderline a sigh. "Yep. I can taste it." She sounds proud of herself, and you let out a breathless chuckle.

Her hand settles on your waist, soft and gentle. Cautious. "Is this okay?" She breaths out, lifting her eyes to look into your own, and there's a small worried crease between her eyebrows.

"More than okay, Doctor. Can't you smell that on me?" You say, a little sarcastically, your head spinning at how close she was.

"Just making sure." She mutters, and her lips fall back to your neck. Your hands find their way to her hair, and she hums a little against your neck, kissing your pulse point with a small smirk and newfound determination. 

She finds the perfect spot, and you let out a small, desperate moan in response, one that surprises even yourself.

"Oh." She breathes out, and stops, surprised. "Do that _again_." She tugs at your waist a little, to get you closer to her.

Your heart is hammering at your chest. " _Make_ me."


	2. Under the stars (the afterparty)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is literally just the smut i wasn't originally planning on writing but now at month 10 of quarantine here we are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for all my lonely gays out there

The Doctor stops.

Her brain _stops_. It goes entirely quiet for about a second or so, which is quite unusual, for her.  
  
And then her mind floods with all the possible places where this could go, and it makes her skin tingle.

" _Oh_." She breathes out, tilting her head, and leaning back slightly to meet your eyes.

She can feel your heart, still beating harder than normal, and your chest is rising and falling with every slightly shallow breath, and you look absolutely _delicious_ like that, she thinks.

The air feels heavy around her, almost electric, like before a thunderstorm, and the Doctor licks her lips.

" _With pleasure_." 

(Her voice is low and thick, almost like a purr, and it tastes like salted caramel and something dark you can't quite place).

She smirks at the way this makes your breathing hitch.

The Doctor leans away slowly, crawling off of the floor, offering you a hand to pull you up, too, all the while maintaining eye contact. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" You ask, confused, your brain only working on approximately 25% of it's normal capacity. The rest was occupied with...other things.

"My bedroom."

This makes your heart miss a beat. And, quite possibly, makes your brain lose whatever capability for rational thinking was left. 

You follow her.

If you were paying attention, you might have noticed the hallways rearranging themselves to shorten the trip. But you weren't, so you don't think twice about why it only takes you seconds to reach the right door. 

Currently, you were too busy watching the way the white partially unbuttoned shirt moved over her muscles as the Doctor walked, her shoulders squared and jaw set.

She doesn't say anything, opening the door, and maybe if your head wasn't still a little bit fuzzy from the drinks, the silence might have been awkward. But it wasn't, and you walk into her room, not really focusing on much else besides _dark_ and _large bed_ and _she is looking at me_.

The Doctor was looking at you, with raw, unveiled hunger in her eyes, now. Somehow, it feels almost as intimate as her lips on your neck.

She shuts the door behind her, and briefly turns to a set of switches by the doorway.

"Hang on. She doesn't need to see this." She mutters.

She turns on some sort of a light system that, as soon as your eyes adjusted, you realized, projected stars and galaxies on the ceiling. 

"Who?" You ask, before your brain can quite catch up. 

"The TARDIS." She explains, flicking a few more switches.

And then she turns to look at you again. 

She looks at you _shamelessly_ , now, letting all of her feelings and intentions show and immensely enjoying all of it. "Well then. Where were we?"

You take a breath, lick your lips, and take a step closer to her. "I believe you were just about to pull some tasty sounds out of me."

She swallows, and you smirk a bit, pleased to see the effect you had on her. You might not be able to hear her heartbeat or anything like that, but you could still see her expressions, and that was more than telling, at the moment. 

Slowly, without saying anything, she guides your back against the closest wall, gathers your hands into hers, and lifts your wrists above your head. "Is this okay?" 

You nod, and it's a small movement, but it's enough.

She leans closer, and takes a deep breath. "Are you sure about this?" She asks, voice quiet, meeting your eyes.

You breathe out a quiet laugh. "Do you think-" you tilt your head and raise a brow a little, "-that I would be here if I wasn't?"

She doesn't answer, just blinks and takes a deep breath. 

"Yes, Doctor." You smile at her. "I'm sure about this. I want this." You lean a bit closer to her. "I want _you_."

She seems to relax a little. "Okay then."

Taking a deep breath, she leans closer to you, one of her hands on your waist, softly pushing your back against the wall.

She runs her fingers lightly up your side, _annoyingly_ lightly, leaving behind a trail of shivers and goosebumps and a craving for more.

You let out an unsteady breath - she is teasing you and she knows it, and it almost makes you want to beg and tell her to touch you properly, but you don't give into it, not yet.

Her fingers trail from your rib cage to your collarbones, and she is studying your reactions intently, eyes dark.

In the dimly lit room, her eyes reflect the stars on the ceiling, and you feel like you could get lost in them forever.

Eventually, her fingers settle on your jawline and tilt your head slightly, and you can feel her breath fan over your lips.

Your skin is burning and every inch of your body is tingling, _aching_ for her touch, and the reaction feels ridiculous considering the situation - she had barely touched you, and here you were, already ready to unravel under her fingers.

And then she shifts in her place, just a little, and places one of her legs between your own.

It makes your breathing falter, and she smirks, fully aware of what she was doing to you. 

She runs her thumb across your cheek and her fingers curl to the back of your neck and then she finally, _finally_ kisses you.

She _kisses_ you, and you forget how to support your own body weight.

You lean into her, and she smirks into the kiss, putting a little more force into pinning you against the wall. 

You breathe out a small sound against her lips, and she shivers, pressing her body closer to yours. She captures your lips again, all repressed hunger and desperate need, kissing you senseless until you're breathless and panting against her.

But she has no intentions stopping there.

Gently, she tilts your head a little, moving her lips to your neck. And then she presses her thigh closer to you - the one that was currently between your legs - and this pulls a broken gasp out of your throat, and makes you unintentionally jolt against her.

She smirks a little at the sound ( _sugar, and something pink_ ) and gets to work kissing your neck. 

You tilt your head back, and there is nothing but _her_.

She moves her hand to the small of your back, pulling your waist closer to her, and you let out a desperate, shameless moan, and you can feel her smile against the side of your neck. 

"Good girl." She mutters quietly against your skin, and this makes something at the pit of your stomach curl.

She kisses your neck and you can't think straight and you need _more_ of her, more than just the not-quite-there pressure of her thigh, so close and yet so far, and you are melting against her, light-headed and desperate.

She is taking her sweet time torturing you, and it was _heavenly_ , but you weren't sure how much more you could take. 

" _Doctor._ " You breathe out, almost whine, your voice shallow and desperate.

(It is the most delicious sound she's heard so far all night, what her name sounds like when you say it like that).

She hums in a vague sort of question-response, despite being fully aware what you meant by that. 

"Please." You continue, impatient.

She lifts her head to get a look at your face - flushed, and hair messy, and _perfect_ \- and trails her fingers lightly up your rib cage again. "Please what?"

" _Please, Doctor._ "

She laughs, and it is breathless, and light, and heavenly.

"Good, but not what I meant, love." She smiles, a little, and presses a light kiss to the base of your ear. "What do you want?"

You can feel her lips brush against your ear, and if possible, it makes you even more dizzy, drunk on her closeness. " _You_." 

"I'm right here."

" _More_ of you."

She hums quietly in acknowledgement, and then leans back, smiling at you. "Well then. Since you asked so nicely."

She shifts, lets go of your wrists and steps away from you, and the lack of contact feels cold, and hollow, and empty. 

Her hair is a little bit messy, and her face is tinted pink. And she looks _gorgeous_.

"Turn around." She says, with an accompanying hand motion. Then, she licks her lips.

"We need to get you out of that dress." She tilts her head. "As beautiful as you look in it, there is _far_ too much fabric."

You do as you're told, and she gets to work undoing the back of your dress, her fingers gentle. 

Then, she lets the loose fabric fall on the floor around you, leaving you standing there in just your underwear. 

The Doctor swallows. "Well-" She licks her lips again, and takes your hand to guide you to step over the sea of fabric, "I can confidently say that you look even more beautiful without it."

Your cheeks warm at the compliment, and you follow her lead, stepping clear of the fabric, leaving it in a forgotten pile on the floor. Then, you let go of her hand, and start unbuttoning the rest of her dress shirt.

She freezes at the contact, just for half a second, before shivering a bit. 

_The Doctor wasn't used to being touched_ , you realize, and it makes you stop in your movements to look up at her eyes. 

You almost ask if she's okay, if this is okay, if you should stop, but she smiles and covers your hands with her own, finishing with the buttons quickly. "'S fine." She says quietly, dismissively, and shrugs off the shirt. 

"Just not used to...this." She explains. "It's weird. Good weird. Just...a lot."

You smile at her, understanding. 

_She wanted to feel like she was in charge._

_Not surprising, really._

"It's okay, Doctor." You lick your lips and take a step towards the bed. "You can lead." 

Her eyes widen, and she follows after you, stumbling a bit.

Her sheets are dark and soft, silk or satin or more likely some alien alternative to those - either way, they are smooth on your skin as you fall into them. 

The Doctor stops in front of the bed, motionless and quiet, watching you. 

"What?" You ask, both impatient and slightly amused at the look on her face.

"Nothing. You just look good like that."

You smile at this, shifting in your place a little. "Hm. I bet I would look better with you in here with me."

This seems to kick her back into action, and she stumbles into the bed with you. 

She crawls on top of you, a bit awkward, and not quite sure what to do next.

(If we're being honest, she had never thought she would get this far, and she had never done _this_ in this body yet, and her brain was currently a _mess_ of thoughts and emotions).

She hesitates.

Her hair is falling over her face, and you reach up and brush it behind her ear, to pull her back to this moment. "Hey, Doctor." 

Her eyes meet yours.

"Come on, Doctor. Where's that fire?" You lick your lips and raise a brow a little. "You aren't just gonna leave me hanging, are you?"

She shakes her head a little to get her thoughts back on track, and breathes out. "Sorry. I'm fine. It's just a lot."

You smile at her, as softly as you can in a situation like this. "It's okay. Just, you know-" You give her half an attempt at a shrug, "-well, you said you could smell my pheromones, right?"

She furrows her brows and nods, just slightly.

"Well, what do they smell like?"

Taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes. Is quiet for a moment. 

" _Good_." She finally answers, voice quiet, and you breathe out a chuckle at this.

It wasn't the answer you were expecting, but you'll take it. 

"Right. I want this. I want _you_ , Doctor. But if you're uncomfortable we don't-"

"I'm not uncomfortable!" She hurries to answer. "I want this too. _You_. I want you, _god_ , you have no idea how much. It's just- like I said. It's a lot. A lot of sensory input coming in, confusing my head."

"We can go at your pace. Whatever you're comfortable with." You offer.

She meets your eyes again, and licks her lips. Then, she takes a deep breath and shifts a bit. 

"Can I-" She gathers your wrists into her hands again, and lifts them above your head. "Is this okay?"

"More than okay, Doctor." You smile, relaxing under her.

She licks her lips again, trying to kick her brain back into gear for this. 

She looks at you from under half-lidded eyes, and leans closer to you. "Did I tell you that you look absolutely _delicious_ like this, or did I just think that?"

You chuckle breathlessly at this. "I think you just thought that. Good to know, though."

She hums quietly, and lets her eyes roam over your body.

It makes your heart beat pick up pace again, and then she starts running her fingers on your skin. You squirm a little, and she leans closer, bringing her lips to your neck again.

(It was the spot that had so far produced the most delicious sounds. Though she _did_ have one other place in mind that might have even better results, but one thing at a time).

You breathe out a sound that's somewhere between a sigh and a moan, absolutely _melting_ into her sheets, and she smiles against your neck.

She takes her time, pulling breathy little sounds out of you, until you're ready to _beg_ for more.

" _Doctor_." You breathe out, voice high and breathless.

You were a _mess_ and you were positive she knew exactly how much you needed her to touch you, but like earlier, she was just being a terrible little tease about it.

" _Please_ , Doctor-"

She rolls her hips against yours, and you gasp at the contact.

Your back arches off of the bed, just a little, and she slips her hand to your spine to pull you closer to her. You can feel her smile against your skin. 

The heat is pooling at the pit of your stomach, and it isn't enough, it's nothing short of heavenly but it isn't _enough_ , and you breathe out a quiet, needy whine.

She rolls her hips a couple more times, and it is electric but it still isn't _enough_ , and you feel like you could combust.

"I _need you._ " You breathe out, pressing your eyes closed.

She hums in acknowledgement and presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, and loosens the grip she had on your wrists. "Can you keep your hands up here for me?"

You nod, not quite trusting yourself to speak. 

"Good girl." She mutters, voice low, now knowing full well what that did to you. 

Then, she takes a deep breath, and gets to work getting rid of the rest of your clothes, her fingers on your skin only leaving fire behind. 

She presses kisses in a trail downwards from your throat, and you are _aching_ for her, grasping at the sheets just to have something to hold onto. You can feel her smirk against your skin, and she is running her hands on you, exploring every inch with soft, slow determination.

She hums quietly. "Now. Let's see what kind of sounds I can pull out of you this way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No thoughts. Head empty.

**Author's Note:**

> Did I just spend a whole afternoon thinking what different music would taste like? Yes, yes I did.  
> Why, you might ask? I have absolutely no idea.  
> Disclaimer: that's PROBABLY not the real reason why the Timelords had those freaky collars. I made that up.


End file.
